Ari, Blood Princess
by Rosaline Redd
Summary: This being a story of a cross-dressing princess, her idiot best friend, and various others, including the world's most messed-up king. - I appologize in advance, since all my stories are likely to contain an OC. However, I love writing them and I don't plan on stopping. - So, this is a completely original story. It's in Fairy Tales because that fit the best.
1. Chapter 1

"Stop thief! Get back here!" I hear the local baker yell.

"Ari, catch!" A warm, fresh loaf of bread flies through the air and lands in my hands. Crud. I take off running, the sound of the angry baker fading from my ears. And sure enough, there's my partner, Davion Jesse James, grinning as he runs next to me.

"Can't you stay out of trouble for five minutes?!" I scold him.

He grins. "Milady, surely you know such actions are not in my nature."

I grimace. "I thought I told you not to call me that. Especially when I'm dressed like this." I gesture to my town-boy outfit. It's basically Davion's old clothes, and consists of a loose shirt, vest, pants, and boots. I also have a hat I wear to cover my hair. Honestly, I'd rather dress like this and have adventures with Davion. Unfortunately, as the only heir to the throne, I'm not allowed to. That hasn't stopped me yet, but no one except Davion can know who I really am.

I'm sitting with Davion, sharing his steal, when I hear my name being called. And not the name I like.

"Aribelle! Aribelle Elizabeth Genevieve Thermopolis! Your father demands to see you this instant!" The voice belongs to Helda Burns, my father's right-hand man, er, woman. I know for a fact that she was hired just to get on my nerves. Okay, so I got the information from Davion. But she's still really big, and mean, and scary. Did I mention she's big? She can't even get into my room! Not that it stops her though. She just yells at me from the hallway.

"You'd better go Ari," Davion whispers. "I'll cover for you."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

He flashes his famous smile. "Don't mention it. Just remember me when you're Queen."

I roll my eyes in response, and dash into the crowd. I can hear Davion screaming something about a coming war in the distance. I smile to myself.

After slipping into my room, I hurriedly change into a gown, and grab a partially completed embroidery project. Just then, Helda bursts into my room and points her sausage-shaped finger at me.

"You! Come with me. Your father wants to see you, NOW!"

I allow her to drag me to the throne room. When I arrive, I see my father, King Henry George Nicholas Thermopolis VIII. He beckons me forward.

"Aribelle!" He booms. I cringe at his bellowing voice. "Aribelle! You are to be making an appearance public today!"

"Sir, the phrase is 'making a public appearance'," His advisor corrects him.

"Why?" I ask.

"To recruit soldiers for our army! We're going to war!"

"Why?"

"Because one of our neighboring countries has declared war on us!"

"No, I mean why do I have to go? Why can't you do it?"

"Because I'm the king and I say so!" In other words, he's too fat and lazy to get out of his chair.

"Fine. I'm going," I tell him.

"Oh, wear that red dress of yours! It makes you look grown-up and sexy!" Did he just say **sexy**?!

The last thing I hear as I leave the room is the advisor explaining to the king why using the word "sexy" isn't appropriate when talking to one's daughter.


	2. Chapter 2

When I arrive, every single person in the town completely stops what they're doing and rushes toward me. It's a very overwhelming experience. One I never want to have to go through again. The bodyguards my father sent with me fight off those who dare to get too close.

We stop at the middle of the town, and I'm allowed to get down. No sooner had I stepped on solid ground, when I hear an all-too-familiar voice screaming from the front of the crowd.

"You stink, Princess Aribelle! Go home and sip tea or something!"

It takes all of my willpower not to roll my eyes at him.

My guards make a move to take him down and possibly kill him.

"Stop! Stop! Guys, he's just kidding," I tell the red-faced brutes. Just in time too. Davion looks like he's going to wet himself, and it's not a pretty sight.

Davion recovers, and starts leaning on me. "Whew. That was a close one," he whispers.

"You think?! Now, get off of me! You're heavy!" I say as I give him a shove. He flashes his famous grin one more time, and goes to join the crowd. I take a deep breath, and start on my speech.

"Citizens of Ordale, trouble is upon us," I read. "Burnkirk has declared war, and we need every able-bodied male in training. Children under the age of 15 are required to stay at home. This is mandatory. No exceptions. We need EVERYONE. This includes the rich and the merchants." I pause. "Any questions so far?"

Deer-in-the-headlights look from the crowd.

"Okay…Well, then, uh, everyone is to report to the training grounds at 10'o clock tomorrow morning. That is all." I give the people a quick curtsy, and prepare for the short ride back to the castle.


	3. Chapter 3

"Ugh. Thank **God** that's over with," I tell Davion, plopping down next to him on the edge of the town fountain. I had finally been able to change clothes and sneak out again.

"Well, on the upside, you made a very convincing speech. It made me want to maybe go to the training grounds. I am 18, so I should be able to."

"You're kidding, right?" I say giving him a questioning look.

He just stares back at me.

"Oh my gosh! You're not kidding!" I realize.

He shrugs. "I don't know. It might be kind of interesting."

"How is seeing people being killed _interesting_?" I shake my head. "I won't let you go through with this."

"You said it yourself; every able-bodied male is needed for the war, no exceptions."

"Yeah, but there are exceptions to every rule!" I yell.

He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. I'm still going."

I sigh. "Fine. You can go to the training camp. But I'm going with you."

This, of course, raises many protests from Davion.

"You CAN'T go! It's practically impossible!" He exclaims, jumping to his feet. "You're a 17-year old girl!"

Davion gets a mix of disgusted and astonished looks from the townspeople. Others just shake their head, assuming there's something wrong with his brain. I angrily yank Davion back down.

"No, _Aribelle_ is a 17-year old girl who's heir to the throne. _Ari_, on the other hand, is most definitely, kind of a guy," I fiercely whisper to him. I tug on my hat, making sure that no stray hairs are leaking out.

Anyway, by the look on Davion's face, I know I've won. I get to go to battle! Although, I probably shouldn't be happy about that.


End file.
